Harley Davidson Road Trip to Fuengirola

Have you ever seen that film called Wild Hogs? You know, the one starring Tim Allen, John Travolta, Martin Lawrence and William H. Macy? It’s all about four good looking middle–aged friends who decide to rev up and hit the road for a motorcycle trip across the States on their Harley’s; getting into all sorts of trouble along the way.

This story has nothing in common with that film at all, except it is about a motorcycle road trip, and it does involve Harley’s.

But that’s where any similarity ends. For a start, in this story there are three of us and not four, we ride across Spain and not the US, and for goodness sake, look at the state of us! Hardly film star material are we? That’s me, by the way. The one on the right.

I like to do a trip abroad on the bike once and a while and usually ride with a couple of mates. We have a good system worked out.

We often cover around 2,000 miles over a 10–day period on an European trip and this year we had a newcomer to our trio, a guy called Alec Grinyer.

Alec had replaced Bob Jackson, our previous riding buddy, who quite frankly is no prettier, and who had moved to America. Alec fitted in like a piece in a jigsaw, and was from then on a regular riding buddy with Keith and me.

I ride a Harley Davidson 2001 Heritage Softail Classic, whereas Keith and Alec both ride Harley Davidson Road King Classics. All these bikes have a 1450cc engine and 5–speed gearbox, and we usually get a comfortable cruising distance of about 160–miles out of a tank of petrol.

Three Tame Hogs Riding to Fuengirola,
And to the 2007 Harley Davidson Euro Rally

The purpose of the trip this time was to attend the Harley 2007 Euro Rally, being held at Fuengirola, Spain, an event to which many Harley Davidson riders and fans make their annual pilgrimage. You would be surprised how many people are fanatical about Harley Davidson motorcycles on this side of the pond, because they turn up in their thousands at wherever the event is staged.

This occasion was the 16th edition of the event, and as we three are all Harley nuts, Fuengirola was to be our destination –riding all the way, of course.

It had been my responsibility to book the ferry crossing, and I did this through Motorsport Travel. I got a blinding deal for the bikes, and an outside cabin (that’s one with a sea view, not a bed on the deck). I also booked a hotel in Fuengirola, with the help of my wife, Sue, who was going to fly down and join me for the rally.

The First Leg of the Journey was to Ride from London to Plymouth

We started out from North London on the Sunday, riding down to the Plymouth ferry port. We made it dry and in plenty of time for the arranged 4.00pm departure. As usual, it took ages to get on, tied down and into the cabins; then there was the queue for a dinner booking. I recommend the restaurant with Brittany Ferries, as the food is great, and it is good value.

After a couple of drinks and a comfortable night’s kip, we arrived in sunny Santander. Here, it takes just as many ages to get off the boat as it did to get on, but as we had landed much earlier than expected, it didn’t really matter. We had more riding time this way and we had been blessed with brilliant sunshine.

It was here I received a text from Ian, another mate, who said he and his band of riders had done the shorter crossing, taking a route through France, in 9–hours of heavy rain! Strange that, as the weather seemed alright from where we were standing.

The Ride From Santander to Burgos on the N623 is Just Plain Stunning

When it comes to memorable journeys I have to say that you have just got to ride, or drive, from Santander to Burgos on the N623 at least once in your life. I had done it before and I was just as excited to be riding this road again, as it is fantastic.

First, you go out into the countryside, and then into the hills, rising to around 3,300–feet before going over the top. You could be forgiven for thinking you had been transported to Switzerland, because as you ride you are passing Swiss chalet style houses.

However, as you get over the top the view opens out, and after you circle a huge lake, you descend into a massive canyon on the other side where there is a series of hairpin bends. It is truly amazing with fabulous scenery all around you, complete with eagles soaring and circling overhead. The colours of the rock faces of the mountains in the sunshine are brilliant, and you can see caves cut into them along the route.

The Route Took us Through the Sierra de Gredas Mountains and Lakes

From Burgos we rode to Valladolid, and had a pleasant evening in the town. From Valladolid we took a ride through Salamanca, Carceres and Merida to Seville. This is a long haul, but takes in the Sierra de Gredas Mountains and lakes, as well as some of the wide–open plains, before bringing you down through the Sierra de Aracena into Seville.

What a great city Seville is. Alec fixed us up with a nice little hotel in the older part of town, complete with parking facilities, and we spent the evening seeing the sights and trying out local food.

I loved this place, so much so I got up early to take some photos and watch it come alive as the people began to go about their daily business. I intend to go back for a long weekend to see some more of the city and its many attractions.

After breakfast we struck out for the south coast with Alec leading us on a route he had picked out. This is when you realise how big and varied Spain is.

Fields of Sunflowers Stretching for Miles

We rode alongside fields of sunflowers, all facing the sun, and among rolling hills dotted with cork trees as we entered a National Park area. Again, these were some phenomenal roads (N381).

After riding up into the mountains again, and across to Ronda, we stopped for a break overlooking the gorge separating us from the town.

Moving on, we descended to the coast along the fast swooping N376, heavily populated by trucks. I found it very challenging to keep up and pass them before reaching the bends, as the Harley Davidson Heritage machine I ride only has brakes made of cheese, as compared to the Road Kings the others were riding.

Arriving at Fuengirola

Once on the coast road we quickened up the pace along the AP7. This is a busy fast road that runs all along the coast, and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves in Fuengirola and booking in at the hotel. With a bit of help from the girls at reception we swapped some rooms to get comfy. This is a neat trick, and if ever you are attending a large rally such as this, or other big function, make sure you arrive at the hotel a day before most other people. Then, you can then sort out any problems that can’t otherwise be rectified once the place is full.

Seemed Tacky at First

First impressions of Fuengirola are that it is a tacky place full of English pubs, bars and cafes. These are along the sea front, but when you get behind all that Blackpool type stuff, it is actually quite varied.

We had asked at the hotel if there was a good local restaurant we could use and were given directions. Once we found the place we ate there every night, as the food was very good, well priced, and with excellent service. If you didn't get there early it was full of local people, which is usually a good sign that you are on to something worthwhile.

On Thursday we went to the rally site. There was much bunting and security, but we got ourselves and our bikes tagged and then rode into the secure parking area. At first I was bemused, but then impressed, as the scene was sort of a main street lined with lights and flags, and with bars and food stalls everywhere you looked.

Some of the Bikes
Were not Just a Means of Transport, but Works of Art

Bikes were encouraged to park on the side like at Sturgis, which was okay whilst not many people were about, but this would become a problem later, when it became busy.

Some of these motorcycles were more than a form of transport – they were an art form. We met a Dutch couple and admired their bespoke Harley’s (pictured here). The detail on them was incredible.

Each part of the street had a food stall⁄bar decked out to a theme, and there was a Spanish Harley Davidson dealer shop. At the end of main street there was the night club where an expensive function was going to happen. We looked for other traders, but found they were allocated space outside the site, so after some Paraguayan BBQ ribs, and being entertained by dancers in native costume, we reckoned we’d seen everything there was to see on–site. Time to visit the independents beyond.

The boys came with me to the airport to pick up Sue, my wife. Boy, am I glad they came, as the motorway was manic and I knew Sue would be nervous on the trip back. The other two guys gave us good protective cover as we rode back over the mountains to the hotel.

Exploring Fuengirola on Foot

On Friday, we managed to explore a bit more of Fuengirola on foot, and went to the Castle to see the ride in bike show. In the evening, after dinner, we walked to the main stage area to see the bands playing – and have a few drinks, of course.

FABBA were good, and then the all–girl band, called Never the Bride, came on. Rather confusingly, only the lead singer and keyboard player were girls, but it is best not to think about things like this too much sometimes. The night ended at the hotel bar.

On Saturday we rode to Puerto Banus and had a pleasant lunch on the harbour side. We didn’t do the big Rally ride out this time, as we’ve done that before. Instead, we chilled out by the pool for a while, making sure we had a table early at Fuengirola’ss favourite dinner spot that evening.

Later, we all rode to the rally site to see the bands playing and to watch the Craig Jones Stunt show. We actually got a ringside view, with Craig doing his thing in the dark, this being outside the rally site and next to the public. He is incredible and his assistant very brave, or is it stupid?

We Watched a Live Performance by Roy Wood

We got back to a position at the front of the stage for the Roy Wood performance. He didn’t disappoint us, and we hugely enjoyed the set. He had a great band with him and the experience took us back to our school days listening to all the old hits he sang. The Jones Gang, led by Kenney Jones, who played drums for The Who, Faces and Small Faces, followed them, and he was assisted by players from Bad Company and Foreigner.

I have to say they were brilliant, and if they are ever on near you, do go and see them. The front man, Rob Hart, who sang for Bad Company, and has written many songs over the years, was amazing. He was totally wired and got the audience going with a combination of most of the hits he had been involved with.

A fantastic firework display started about half way into their performance and I later found out this was put on for a religious festival. It must have cost a fortune. Still, the band was not to be outdone by the fireworks, and like real pro’s they carried on throughout.

Riding out of the Festival Ground on the Bikes was Very Tricky

By now it was about 1.30am and way passed my bed time. We made it back to the bikes and then had to ride through the audience to get out. This is not easy with riders of different calibres around, especially with the noisy ones trying to do wheel spins and backfires right next to people in the crowd. This all gets a bit silly and is actually dangerous.

When we went up to our room, and looked out over the seafront, there were more people on the beach than during the day! This is the one day a year that anyone can lawfully have a bonfire on the beach and they seemed to make the most of it.

Apparently, they have to jump over the bonfire before running backwards into the sea. This supposedly being part of the religious festival and the fireworks, but it just seemed to us like a great excuse for a party.

Sunday was a day of R & R after our late nights at the showground, not to mention the beach party frolics. Sue and I went for a stroll along the seafront and around the harbour, before returning for lunch. We then packed her bag and made a return trip to the airport, again assisted by Alec and Keith, so see her safely of on her flight home.

After Sue left, Keith, Alec and I headed off towards Malaga for a ride along the coast road to Nerja. We used the motorway to get around Malaga, which is a very built up place, and then came off to try and pick up the coast road. There wasn’t much of a coast road to follow, and we seemed to turn back to the autoroute time and time again.

When you Find you are not Getting Anywhere, Just Have an Ice Cream

We cut our losses and stopped for an ice cream, after which we returned to Fungorilla along the motorway. This is an extremely fast road with lots of traffic, and we passed a couple of accident scenes on the opposite carriageway.

On Monday, with bills settled, we loaded up and headed back to Malaga on the motorway before taking the road up to Granada. This is a fast road with lots of sweeping bends and you are constantly climbing. There were plenty of Harley’s headed in the same direction and the noise was fantastic.

On the Road From Granada to Madrid

At Granada we took the main road towards Madrid and continued through more mountain passes and then onto the high plains where the sun gets very intense. We kept moving at a decent pace and pushed on until about 1.30pm; a time that I decided we needed to stop for fuel and food.

I’d seen a couple of places when I had been here before and during the trips I did with Land Rover. The service station we chose had a nice looking hotel⁄cafe attached, and as there was another group of Harley’s parked up there, I decided it must be okay. However, first we needed fuel.

Big mistake, me trying to use a card to pay for petrol, as most places aren’t online like at home. 10–minutes later, with payment eventually having been processed, we rode over to the cafe bar and get some food.

Unfortunately, I have a particularly fragile bridge, this being of the dental kind as opposed to one the billy goats gruff might have used to cross the stream. Usually, and at the most inappropriate moment, it will break. Bearing this in mind, if you will, I ordered a jamon and queiso boccadillo, which is a ham and cheese roll.

Brits Will Eat Anything, According to the Locals

It was served with British bread, named locally as it is tough and dry and which they give only to the Brits. It is a common misconception in other parts of the world that we will eat anything we’re given.

I took the opportunity to bash the roll within an inch of it’s life to soften it and then pulled it apart so as to eat it by taking one small piece at a time (not forgetting to carefully chew the Iberico ham).

Even after taking all these necessary precautions I couldn’t believe it when biting into a piece of cheese and felt the unmistakeable dink as the bridge failed. It was then only a second or two before my best Mexican drug dealer smile came into existence. In a trice I became Jamon Iberico, an infamous villain, wanted in 4 Spanish provinces and with a steep price on his head.

Everyone Just Fell About in Hysterics

Keith and Alec just cracked up and to the point where I seriously thought each would be carried out of there on a stretcher. Actually, I did see the funny side of it, after a minute or two, but it took 2–weeks until I got things fixed. I wasn’t allowed to smile again for the rest of the trip though.

We hit Madrid just before rush hour and made our way into the centre, where after asking directions, we ended up riding the wrong way along a one–way street. Still, we got to our hotel, but that’s where the police officer had sent us. Perhaps this is something they do in this part of Spain? We checked in, and then checked out the Plaza Mayor.

We had a scoot about, taking in the sights and polishing off a few cold Belgian beers. For the following evening we booked ourselves into Botins, the longest running restaurant in the world, for the traditional suckling pig dinner.

The Historical Sights of Madrid are well Worth Exploring

On Tuesday we did the sightseeing thing on a tour bus. This is actually to be recommended as it is a cheap way to get about the city. We also spent several hours at the Prado Gallery and museum. Well worth the time and effort. Dinner was interesting, if only to watch the table of Russians next to us running up a huge bill. The cold soup and suckling pig were to my taste, but not for Alec. Not his thing, it seems.

Wednesday, and after a breakfast of chocolate and churros, which are like a long thin doughnut you dip in the thickest hot chocolate I’ve ever tried, with much personal excitement and expectation we headed for my favourite road again, albeit from the opposite direction to that on the way down – obviously!

We left Madrid Behind,
But as we Rode North, it got Colder and Colder

We got out onto the ring road around Madrid and then took the only toll road of the entire trip to get us North and onto the road to Burgos. As we rode along it got colder and colder, and even though I was wearing a jacket, when we stopped for petrol, I put on my heavy coat as by now I was freezing!

We stopped for lunch in Burgos, but couldn’t get near the amazing Cathedral, so settled for tapas in one of the squares. We parked the bikes up, whereupon many people came over to have a look and take photos. Leaving there we began the ride on the best bit, and it was just as stunning as when going the other way. This time we were riding up through the canyon and up the hairpins to the lake, before running through the mountain valleys – just brilliant!

By the Time we Got Back to Santander we Were all Just Knackered

On arrival back at Santander we had to find somewhere to stay, as this was the only place we hadn’t booked in advance. I remembered a place I had used before and managed to get us in, complete with parking facilities for the bikes and all at a reasonable price. I was really knackered after the day’s ride, and after a stroll along the seafront to stretch my legs, it was dinner and early to bed.

Getting ready for the ferry on Thursday morning was frustrating, as even queuing up early we were kept waiting for hours. Once all tied down it was a meal in the restaurant, and then an early night. Next morning, it was an early breakfast and in plenty of time before we docked. There was the usual rigmarole in getting off, but we made quick time back towards Exeter, passing everything in our path.

We guessed we were going to get wet at some point, but just how wet was the part we didn’t realise. As we came up the A303 we saw the rain coming in the form of one massive and angry looking cloud over the plain ahead of us. By this time we didn’t care, as we just wanted to get home. We just put our heads down and rode through it. By the time we got to the M3 the rain had stopped and we started to dry out.

Safely Back Home and the 12–Day Trip Was at an End

After arriving home in time for tea, and into the bosom of the family, I reflected upon the events of the past 12–days. As I did I realised it isn’t the event that makes the trip such a wonderful experience, but the journey there and back. However, without the rally to go to, there would be no purpose in doing the trip, so one has to have the other.

Spain is a fantastic place to visit, as it is a most varied country to ride through. You have to get away from all that tacky tourist holiday nonsense to see the real Spain, but when you do, I would recommend it to anyone. Hopefully, we will be riding to the 17th Euro Rally at Lake Garda in September this year, and no doubt that will be another wonderful experience.

If anyone would like further details concerning routes and roads, places and hotels, I will be most happy to answer your questions. Just go to the Click to Comment button at the bottom of the page and post your question on the forum.

First Published June 2008

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Harley Davidson Road Trip to Fuengirola